Through the Eyes of Forever
by BlackWidowPretty
Summary: Souls, lives, and spirits, morphed and destroyed by the flames, and then left to burn with the ashes. Mild language, rating may go up with later chapters. Angst H/T A/H Love Triangle! Yeah, now everybody reads.
1. Gossamer

**This originally was meant to be a H/T oneshot of some sorts, but it just kind of took off and I got a bunch of ideas, so I decided to make it a chapter story. My effort at an angsty story, and not to cry. yeah, right.**

It was like any other day, that day. The day many souls in the LEP were changed forever. There was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. Elves chatted over sim-coffee as they arrived for work. The same grumbled complaints about paperwork hung in the air. The same gossip, same jokes, same normal steady-paced working day. Why did fate choose that day, out of so many, to shock and potentially destroy the lives of many elves. Because fate was cruel. Relentless. Evil.

When Captain Holly Short awoke that morning, she, like _so_ many, expected just another work day. She had no idea that in the next six hours, her life would change forever.

Commander Trouble Kelp, too, suspected nothing wrong. He went through the first hour of his day as he regularly did; pinning those Commander acorns on his lapel with pride, giving an air of superiority off to every officer ranked below him. Nothing apparent out of the ordinary.

The two elves arrived at their workplace at about the same time, Commander Kelp holding the door open politely for Captain Short, secretly marveling in her beauty and confidence. She gives her thanks, catching his deep, chocolate eyes with her own sparkling hazel on ones. If either had know that that little unconscious express of emotion would be the only for a long time, more words would have been traded through their masks of containment. But fate wouldn't allow it.

They parted ways. Trouble to his office, Holly to her cubicle. As was the ritual every day. Nothing made it different. But, later, when one would sit for hours on end in the hospital by the other's side, that elf would wonder why it didn't say a few more words to the other that morning. Maybe none of it would have happened.

But that wasn't the truth. It happened anyway. Fate made sure of it.

Holly sat at her desk, fuming for the thousandth time that it wasn't bigger. As was the norm. She trades greetings between coworkers, all oblivious to what the day has in store. Chix Verbil comments seductively about her evening plans, and she turned him down with a forced smile. Lili Frond hopped back and forth between cubicles, thinking her blond act fooled people. As was the daily ritual.

Trouble sat at his own large Commander's desk, wishing desperately that he had more coffee. He watched the busy morning hustle through the window of his office and tapped a pen on his desk. The stress of his responsibility weighed on his mind again. He had the two Opal Koboi s running around to worry about, the tension between the goblins and dwarves occupying most of the news with gang violence and riots, and he really wanted a cup of coffee. He tossed down his pen and pushed his intercom button.

"Gr -- Captain Kelp, get down here."

Holly had been asleep, drooling a puddle on her desk, when she jumped awake at the sound of Trouble Kelp's commanding voice over the intercom. She looked out of her cubicle as Grub Kelp rushed down the hall, jittery and nervous as a new-born pup. Holly rolled her eyes and yawned. She scratched her nose lazily and thought, '_I could use some coffee._' A decision that made her fate certain. She stretched and got up for the break room, making sure to trip Ash Vein as he passed her. Everything normal and as it should be. For now.

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Captain Kelp arrived in Commander Kelp's office, breathless and nervous. Trouble made a face, then ordered, "Go get me a cup of coffee, Captain."

Grub pouted. "Mummy said you can't treat me like your slave just because you're Commander now."

"I'm not. I could make any one of the officers get me a cup of coffee. And none of them would have whined about Mummy."

"But you chose me 'cause you're a big bully," Grub sniffed miserably.

"No, I chose _you_, Captain, because I know that all you were doing was sitting in you cubicle, picking your nose, thinking about writing a complaint concerning having tissue boxes every two feet so you wouldn't have to keep messing up your fingers. You know the girls don't like 'em green."

Grub winced.

"And another thing," Trouble continued, angry that he wasn't getting his coffee, "you are so big of a pussy that someone could tell you to stand up straight and you would call them a bully. It's about time you toughened up and learned to be a man, Grub. I'm getting sick of always having to cover you when you turn coward and run. You can't keep needing me for your protection, Grub. Live your own damn life."

Trouble paused.

"And get me my coffee."

Grub looked as if Trouble had reached out and slapped him. Tears welled up in the younger brother's eyes and his fists clenched, fingernails digging into his palms. If Trouble had known how much his word cut his brother's heart, he wouldn't have glared at him as he turned to leave. Grub paused as he opened the door, knuckles white as he gripped it. He looked back at Trouble, his eyes steel and his expression empty of his previous sadness.

"One of these days, Trouble," Grub said calmly, "_you're_ going to need _me._ And I might not be there." With that he left the office to get Trouble's coffee.

Trouble stood at his desk a moment, staring at the door. The calmness and seriousness of his brother's voice scared him. In the many months after the events of this day, Trouble would fall apart, blaming himself, wishing with all of his heart that he could go back in time, catch the hurt in Grub's eyes, act like the big brother he always could have been, but never was.

But fate wouldn't allow it.

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The brown, sim-caffeine-rich liquid flowed into Holly's cup smoothly, sending up mini mushroom-shaped puffs of steam. She stared dreamily at it before bringing the heavenly drink to her lips. It slid over her tongue and down her throat, burning in the most mesmerizing way. She closed her eyes blissfully, savoring her first sip. She immediately felt warm and awake. With a small smile, she took another drink.

Holly's coffee euphoria was broken by a sniff beside her. She opened her eyes to see Grub Kelp beside her, looking down at his own empty cup, fingernail scratching the Styrofoam. His brow bent with an unseen pain, his mouth twitching in a grimace. Holly saw a complaint coming.

"What is it, Grub?" she sighed. "Something wrong with a Styrofoam cup for coffee?"

Grub looked up, appearing startlingly exhausted, and met her gaze. His eyes gave the impression of a beaten puppy, but there was also a hint of iron and tolerance. He spoke with a flat tone. "It isn't mine. It's Trouble's."

Holly frowned. Grub wasn't himself today. She turned until she faced him. "You okay?"

Grub tried to keep his cold shell intact but Holly had that affect on people. His eyes filled with tears again as he slowly filled his cup with sim-coffee. When he spoke again, his voice was laced with hurt.

"It's just -- Sometimes I wonder why Trouble and I have grown so far apart. Everything he says to me is either a command or an insult. He doesn't appreciate me, and he takes every opportunity to downsize and humiliate me." Grub sighed. "And ever since he was promoted, it has made it worse. Now, he's not only my older brother, but my boss, too." The young elf pulled his now full cup back to his chest. "It just makes me feel so distant." He trailed off, biting his lip. He knew Trouble was at least partly right. He should man up and defend himself for once. But Grub had always had his older brother to idolize and stick up for him. A touching sibling loyalty Trouble never could return.

Holly wasn't sure what to say. Being an only child, she had never had the chance to look up to any sibling, or have any siblings look up to her. She took another sip of her coffee, searching for the right words.

"Trouble doesn't mean to be that way. He is trying his hardest to make up for Commander Root's death, and sometimes he tries a bit too hard, and forgets that you need his support as much as he needs yours."

Grub scoffed. "He wants you more than he'll ever need me…"

"Don't be ridiculous, Grub, you -- " Holly stopped, frowning. "Huh?"

Grub met her gaze squarely. "As if you hadn't noticed," he said, his voice shaking dangerously with suppressed anger and hurt. "You're all he ever talks about at home! All he ever thinks about! I see him in his room all the time, looking at the same picture of you, daydreaming to himself! _You're _the reason he never has time for me anymore! It's always, _always, _been _you_!" The desperate accusation burst out of Grub's lungs n a shout, echoing off the walls of the break room.

Holly stood speechless in front of him, her mouth hanging slightly open.

"Grub, no…it -- it's not-- "

Grub just shook his head and looked down, silencing Holly. For once in her career in the LEP, Holly saw Grub through new eyes. He could have been every bit as much of a fighter as his brother. There was a secret strength in him that no one had ever seen. That flare of steel determination in his chestnut-brown eyes was as much his own as in his brother's eyes.

An iron silence dropped on the two elves heavily. Grub looked down at his coffee again, regretting accusing Holly so harshly. She couldn't help being the main subject of Trouble's thoughts and dreams. Grub's cinnamon-colored fingers clenched, bending the Styrofoam cup. _Well,_ he thought, _she's partly to blame._

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Trouble was getting impatient. He wanted his damn coffee. No matter who was getting it. He paused by his door to scratch a 'Kill Grub' note on his office "Remind Me" screen and then left.

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After a few moments, Holly took another careful drink of her cooling coffee. She cleared her throat and looked at Grub tiredly.

"…I'm sorry, Grub. Your brother, he… he isn't good at expressing emotion… It makes him feel…awkward."

Grub didn't look up, but nodded a little, biting the inside of his cheek. Holly patted his shoulder.

"I should get some work done."

"Yeah…Trouble will be wanting his coffee."

Holly turned to leave, and then looked back.

"Give him a chance. Just a chance. He'll see what a precious brother you are."

Grub met her eye with a small smile.

Then the world ignited.

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Trouble strutted determined toward the break room. He caught a glimpse of Holly Short through the doorway and his step faltered briefly. His heart leapt in his chest and he felt as if he were viewing the world through a movie screen. A tired expression laced Holly's beautiful features. Trouble slid to the side to see what she was looking at and found Grub in front of her, looking down at a coffee cup. 'Mycoffee,' Trouble thought.

He saw Holly come to leave the break room, and then turn back.

Time moved like a button through tar.

Trouble watched Grub's small, sad smile fade.

He witnessed the wall behind his brother absorb into the brightest light.

He felt himself slip away as the world caught fire.

Heartbeat fading…vision dimming.

The last thing he saw was his brother get enveloped into a blazing wall of light.

The last thing he heard was Holly Short's scream.

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Heat and fire sucked the air into itself, scorching the halls.

\\//~*~\\//

Cubicle walls shredded and burned.

\\//~*~\\//

The whole of Police Plaza imploded.

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And less than forty feet away, Opal Koboi cackled.

\\//~*~\\//

Then screamed a death-scream as the flames engulfed her, too.

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…

…thump…

Pain…

Shouting…

It hurts…

…thump…

Pain…

Fade…

Voices…

…thump…

Pain…

"Is she okay? Holly?"

…thump…

"Holly?!"

Pain…

Can't see…

"…Mu-ul…"

…fade…

…thump-thump…

...whisper…fallen…

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**Please review.**


	2. Melancholy

**Hello friends. I just have one thing to say:**

**Try not to cry.**

**Disclaimer: All rights reserved to Eoin Colfer. I own the doctors though.**

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…beep…beep…beep…beep…

'Oh……..ow.'

Pain. Not enough to force away consciousness.

But, damn, it still hurt.

…beep…beep…

'A heartbeat… My heartbeat?...'

The murmur of darkness. The beep of my heart. A smell…

Slipping away again…

'Good…I'm tired anyway…'

Fade…

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Pulled back, barely aware, by voices.

"…heart rate elevating slightly, but blood pressure and brain activity normal. No reds on the monitors and we'll recheck his blood content in half-an-hour to make sure the pain-killers aren't affecting his protein levels."

"Good. It's been at least thirty-six hours. He should be waking soon."

The first voice spoke again, a hint of regret in his voice. "When he does, he'll really wish he hadn't."

The second sighed. "Yeah. We lost the other one yesterday. He didn't even make it to the clinic before he was gone."

'_Lost?...Who…'_ Slow molasses thoughts. The first spoke again, a lower murmur.

"I heard there wasn't much left of him to lose."

A wave of nausea spread through his body. He couldn't speak, couldn't move. That smell again. The smell of clean weakness and helplessness. He could feel soft material under his fingers, but couldn't move them. Light burned his eyes, even under heavy lids. The voice spoke again.

"There wasn't. He lost both legs and his right forearm in the explosion."

'_…Explosion…'_

He started to slip away again. '_No,'_ he thought desperately, trying with all his might to hold on to consciousness. _'No.'_ He fought against the trance that tried to lull his mind away. _'No!'_ He heard the voices again, not understandable, but it didn't really matter anyway. Their tone was enough. The tone heavy with pity, remorse, and a hint of selfish relief. It hadn't happened to _them_.

He grew angry, an anger that quickly morphed into a furious energy. He suddenly became completely aware.

"NO!"

Trouble sat rapidly upright in his bed and shouted at the top of his lungs. Panicky adrenaline pumped solidly through his veins and his eyes snapped open against the harsh light of the Haven clinic room. The walls echoes with his shout and the two doctors in the room rushed towards him. He caught a glint in one of their hands and howled at the ceiling. He didn't know why. Their mention of an explosion made him picture that horrific scene again. The blinding wall of fiery light engulfing his brother…Grub…

"Grub!" Trouble shouted like a madman, and the two doctors tried to restrain him as he fought to get to his feet. A burning, overwhelming pain shot through his right leg and he cried out again. Two arms tried to hold his own down. But his hardened muscles greatly overpowered those of the other. The doctor, who was a thin, frail elf, was launched across the room in Trouble's rage. The second doctor was a toughened gnome who managed to keep a longer hold on Trouble as he struggled. The poor elfin Commander shouted and fought.

Then, suddenly, he felt dazed and calm. He felt as if his arms had been soaked in honey, and his struggles soon ceased. He fell back onto his bed and was silent, staring up at the white ceiling dreamily. The thin doctor, breathing heavily, got up from the floor and brushed himself off. The other threw away the need he had just used on Trouble. He wiped his forehead and turned to the thin elf doctor.

"He's awake," the gnome said, a tad unnecessarily. The other just looked at him. Then they both looked back at their patient.

Trouble's eyes were glazed, half because of the drug, half with sadness. His tongue was weighed down with painkillers, as if his mouth was full of syrup. '_An explosion,'_ his dazed brain thought weakly. '_Grub…'_

"Grub…" he croaked quietly to the ceiling. He didn't see, didn't register any of his surroundings. The image still stained his mind, the pain in his leg still burning, his hand shaking. His heart ached. He felt lost.

The elfin doctor recognized the name. "Grub?" he echoed, and picked a portable record screen up from a bedside table. "As in Captain Grub Kelp?"

Trouble looked slowly, tiredly down at the thin doctor. After a few moments of heavy silence, he whispered, "Grub."

The doctor tapped some commands onto his record screen, calling up some windows. "Grub Kelp… Ah, here."

Trouble's heart rose to his throat. Then the doctor frowned and it sank to his feet.

"Yes, it's like I thought," the thin elf murmured. Trouble felt a stab of panic pierce his heart. He sat up and swallowed the panic, coming out of his stupor. "Yes… You were his older brother by twenty-seven years, and also his Commander in the LEP."

Trouble grew even more worried. "What's happened?" he said, unable to keep the tremble from his voice.

The doctors looked at each other hesitantly. It was the worst thing they could have done. Trouble immediately cradled his head in his hands, shuddering. The gnome ran his fingers through golden brown hair and sighed. "I'm afraid… we… didn't get to Grub in time. He was barely alive when we found him under a pile of burnt debris that used to be the walls of you LEP break room."

Trouble was thrown into a dungeon of misery. He clutched his head tightly in his hands, his throat closing in on itself. His eyes were squeezed shut, preventing stinging tears from falling. He tried to halt the growing wall of grief he felt, but it was like trying to catch a waterfall with a toothpaste cap.

The elf doctor spoke softly, voice heavy with remorse. "He lost three limbs in the explosion. If it's any consolation, he didn't suffer."

'_Yes he did,_' Trouble thought angrily. _'He suffered every minute I ignored him, every minute he thought he wasn't good enough, every second I …._objectified _him. And it's my fault he's gone. _Mine._ He's dead because of me. All because of me. I made him go get my coffee, and now he's dead. All because of me. My fault. He's gone…and it's all my fault…'_

Trouble didn't realize he had been mumbling all of this aloud until the doctor laid a hand on his shoulder. "Now, that's enough," he said. "Of course it's not your fault. No one could have prevented this."

The LEP Commander tried to compose himself. He wiped his eyes and shrugged the doctor's hand off. The last thing he wanted now was pity. He couldn't grasp the whole of what had happened. Not yet. His own self pity would have to wait until later. He had duties to fulfill to the LEP. His emotions had to move down on his priority list for now.

At that thought, Trouble's heart gave a mighty lurch. Even dead, his brother was pushed aside for later.

Trouble cleared his throat, driving that thought from his head. He automatically felt a sense of authority, even if it was hollow and meaningless. An instinctive leader. People depended on him to make beneficial decisions. Including his brother.

"What was the extent of the damage?" He managed to keep a steady voice, but it was as if his spirit was disconnected from his body. The voice was barely his own, the icy, commanding shell barely holding.

The doctor didn't expect Trouble to be so direct and tripped over his words. "Well, --the -- the entire -- your Police Plaza exploded and some of the surrounding buildings caught fire."

Trouble felt another wave of nausea and winced. Fires when you lived underground were not pretty. "How many fatalities?" he forced out through a clenched throat and gritted teeth.

The two medical fairies exchanged glances again.

"How many people _died_?" Trouble said loudly. No matter how terrible, he had to know. The pain in his leg started to throb again and he could feel the painkillers start to wear off in various places on his body.

The gnome doctor came closer to Trouble. Trouble noticed for the first time a name tag on his breast pocket that read, 'Doskal Keight, Doctor of Psychology, and V.P. of DA.' '_Hmm,'_ Trouble thought bitterly. _'Disaster Aftermath. Pretty serious shit.'_ Keight was a built fairy with golden hair and green eyes. His brow bent with the burden of bad news. When he spoke, he formed his words into slow, careful sentences.

"You are among the thirty-seven survivors our search team found in the rubble."

'_Thirty-seven?'_ Trouble thought, alarmed. _'There are more than that in Recon alone.'_

"Six of those survivors didn't make it to the clinic alive." Keight continued, regret littering his eyes and voice. Trouble tried to ignore the fact that one of these was his brother. "The seventy six others were found dead in the rubble. Our young demon warlock, who calls himself N°1, tried to revive them, but managed the life of only one. Thirteen more are missing, and Police Plaza is completely destroyed."

Trouble fought to hole down a wall of dizziness that made his stomach clench. '_How?'_ he thought helplessly. _'How could so many people __die__?'_

He swallowed his misery and croaked, "Wh-What caused the explosion?"

Keight managed an even deeper frown. "A bomb, we think. We found no physical, mechanical evidence of one, such as the detonator or pieces of the casing, but our scanners did pick up high amounts of explosive residue. We also found Opal Koboi dead on the charred street, about forty feet away. She's undeniably the cause of the explosion, because she is the only of the fairy race with the ability to make an explosive that large."

Trouble realized that as he listened, his breathing had grown heavy and shaky. The right side of his body felt as if it was still in the fire, but he was numb to it. Opal Koboi. _'Of course,'_ Trouble thought with spite. She was the only fairy that was cruel enough to still make explosive devices. She was arrested over two centuries ago when explosive material had been found at her lab in Atlantis. She easily escaped the clutches of the law with some over-charging hot-shot lawyers, but was forced to give all of her material, prototypes, and research to the LEP or suffer a long sentence behind laser bars. Of course she hadn't given it all up.

And now, after committing something so evil, Koboi was dead. But Trouble wasn't satisfied. She should have lived to face her consequences. She deserved more than death. She wasn't even worthy of something like that.

Trouble closed his eyes, trying to push away his building rage. A sudden thought slammed into his brain like a blood-thirsty troll. _'Holly.' _He nearly flew out of his hospital bed in remembrance. Only the fiery pain that overtook his body and Doskal Keight held him down.

"Let me go," Trouble grunted through teeth. He had to know. Holly couldn't be dead. She just couldn't. The loss of his brother was bad enough. If he lost both of the people he had ever cared so much for, that he would no longer have any reason to live.

"No," Keight said, with surprising authority. "You have suffered massive amounts of burns to the right side of your body, and you have lost the use of your right leg temporarily. You won't be able to walk for at least a week. And even when you do start to walk, the burns on your hip and thigh will make it excruciatingly painful. You're not leaving this hospital for at least a month."

Trouble blinked at the commanding tone the doctor's voice. He was used to giving orders, not taking them. Trouble slowly lay back on his bed, obeying like a lectured child. After a moment of silence, he closed his eyes again and whispered, "What happened to Holly Short?"

The elf, whose name tag read, _Harbor Petsen, Resident_, consulted his record screen again. "Captain Holly H. Short. Twenty-one years in the LEP, nine years in her rank 'Captain.' Main affiliate in the Artemis Fowl cases over the last seven years, three of which she was missing, in the demon island Limbo. Resigned from LEP duty for four months before that after the accusation of murder from former Commander Ark Sool."

Trouble almost screamed. "I didn't _ask_ for statistics," he snapped. "Is. She. _Alive?_"

For a few moments, there was no sound except for the beeping of the monitor with every thump of Trouble's heart. His leg throbbed with a burning pain, but he barely felt it. His internal grief greatly surpassed his external. The loss of his brother was forever branded onto his heart. His brown eyes would never hold that daring sparkle again.

Harbor Petsen looked up from his record screen, a tired frown on his brow. Trouble felt his heart go icy cold. '_No, please,'_ he thought. '_Not her._' He felt the sting of more salty tears. _'Not her.'_ The same persistent, desperate thought drove through Trouble's mind until the doctor's words fell upon stubborn ears that wouldn't believe them anyway.

"Captain Short was found…dead in the ruins of Police Plaza."

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_Floating…_

_My world, myself…_

_…light as a feather…_

_…tickles like one, too…_

_My limbs feel like hollow steel…_

_…but about to float away any second._

_Darkness…_

_Silence…_

_Why can't I move?_

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**Please review, even though I know it was basically just super-long rambling about nothing.**


	3. Suffer

**Yup, yup. I know what you're thinking. "What's taking you so DAMN long to UPDATE?!!!" In response, I am thinking of cheese popcorn. *sighs dreamily* Cheese popcorn....**

**Anyway. Lucky you, I am finally updating. I was stuck a day ago and then suddenly today it just poured out of me. And I love it. **

**Uh... That's all I got. Read on, pickles.**

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_Since all death diminishes us a little, we grieve - not so much for the death as for ourselves. ~ Lynn Caine_

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Trouble gritted his teeth hard at the doctor's words, miserable tears leaving fluorescent as they flowed down his face. His lips tightened against his jaw and his brow creased as he fought to hold back sobs that threatened to shake his broken body. '_Gone.' _Even the voice inside his head was sobbing. He whimpered: a sound that any self-respecting Commander would have never been caught making. But Trouble didn't care anymore. Didn't care whether he lived or died. Didn't care what happened to him, or his world. Didn't care about his job, his duty to protect the People. '_Let the humans come,_' he thought angrily. '_Let them come. It's not as if it would matter. Fuck this life, and the next. Put me out of my damn misery.'_

Trouble glanced up out of his bubble of grief in time to see Keight whack Petsen on the ear with an angry grunt. "You moron!" he shouted so loud that Trouble forgot his mourning for a second. "Check your records again before you go spouting things like that! Imbecile!"

Petsen stuttered an apology to Keight, ears quivering nervously, and glanced again at his record screen. Regret immediately consumed his face. "Oh…" That was all he could manage before Keight's hand connected again with the side of the elf's head.

"Get the hell out of here before you kill the Commander altogether! Idiot!" Keight kicked at Petsen's rear to emphasize his point as he scrambled to leave the room.

When Harbor Petsen had left, and after a few brief moments of angry cussing, Keight turned back to Trouble. The Commander's face was dead. Carved in ice. If it weren't for the beeping of the monitor with Trouble's heart, Keight would have questioned whether or not Trouble was alive.

The gnome cleared his throat, and Trouble looked at him, eyes flat and lifeless. "I apologize for the foolishness of my coworker. He is new in our department, and a complete moron."

Trouble's face still bore no expression. His chestnut cheeks were still streaked with the trails of dozens of tears.

Keight stepped forward to the side of Trouble's bed. He laid a hand hesitantly on the elf's shoulder, as if Trouble would struggle again. But he seemed unresponsive, except for the movement of his eyes as Keight came near him. The doctor spoke carefully and softly, as if his words could kill Trouble if they were said the wrong way. At this point, they very well could have.

"It's true, Captain Short was _found_ dead at the scene. But she had only been gone for a minute and a half. The demon warlock, N°1, and his partner, Qwan, managed to revive her. How, we don't know, as no one we came across even barely alive was healed by magic. No injuries that the explosion caused were able to be healed; that's why we lost so many. All the same, that N°1 is a strong little demon, and must have had a special friendship with Captain Short, because she is alive. Against all odds, she's alive."

Trouble was so overcome with relief that the tears started to pour out all over again. It took all of his effort not to sob aloud when he spoke. "Wh-Where is she?" His voice sounded strangled and far away, like it was coming out of a speaker someone was sitting on. He barely heard his own words, just the thunder of his heart in his ears, and one thought: _'She's alive.'_

Keight swallowed, looking nervous about what he was going to say. Trouble braced himself for the worst, knowing the worst was probably coming. He was right.

"After the stress of her magical revival, her body was still in such overwhelming pain and the magic alone from the desperation the demon had for her life almost killed her again. Her mind and body overloaded, so it shut itself down. She slipped into a deep coma. We don't know when she will wake up. If she even does."

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Though Trouble's leg burned with pain, he refused more pain-killers. He wanted to be perfectly lucid when he saw Holly. But Keight did force him to take a wheelchair on his visit to Holly's room. Trouble didn't object. He knew that it would be quite a while before he was able to walk on his leg again. But it didn't stop him from feeling weak as the gnome pushed the Commander through the blindingly white hallways of the Haven clinic. He wanted to be independent, walk the halls on his own, not need to be treated like the crippled elf they saw, instead of the iron-willed resolute LEP Commander that was inside.

Now, though, Trouble wasn't so sure. He wasn't sure of himself, what his life, or any other of the lives affected by the explosion would become. He knew his wasn't the biggest tragedy. He'd heard people often say that the loss of a family member was like the loss of a limb. For him, it was as if his spirit had been sucked out, set on fire, and pushed back into his body to burn him from the inside out. He knew he shouldn't let his brother's death consume him so. But what could he possibly have left?

_'Don't think like that,'_ he scolded himself. Trouble winced and bit his lip as the wheelchair clanked over another bump, sending jolts of pain up his leg. He gritted his teeth against the pain, hoping the doctor hadn't noticed. The last thing he needed was happy shots.

He tried not to think about the state Holly might be in when he reached her. He tried to ignore the fact that she might not wake up from her coma. He tried to hope that she would be the same after the accident. But it was pathetic hope. No one would be the same. He knew. Tears crept rebelliously to Trouble's dark brown eyes. _'And Grub had never lived to find out.' _

A shaky sigh escaped his lips before he could stop it, and Dr. Keight slowed down a bit. "Are you sure you want to endure the pain?" he asked.

Trouble almost laughed. Almost. "As if I had a choice," he mumbled through his teeth, his eyes drying of his tears as they searched the cracks in the hospital's tiled floor. His face was contorted in a slight grimace, reflecting his physical pain, and advertising his emotional torment. Keight knew the Commander wouldn't accept any pity, or drugs, or any sort of treatment that was different than before he was confined to the wheelchair. But was he really ready to see what had become of this elf, Holly Short? Keight got the feeling that the two were more than merely co-workers, as far as he had seen from Commander Kelp. And he had seen the terrible state of Captain Short after her magical healing. He wasn't sure it would help anything if Trouble saw the same.

Still, it was more that she was alive, than if she was dead.

Trouble felt Keight's hesitation as they neared a different ward of the clinic. The one meant for the patients in the most critical of conditions. He automatically tried to sit up straighter in his wheelchair, causing another bolt of pain to shoot down his hip. He heard Keight take a cautious breath in through his nose, then speak with the anxious air.

"Here we are. Room 344."

Trouble forced himself to pull his gaze from the tiled floor. This section of the clinic felt different, as if the atmosphere automatically sucked the hope out of his soul. And worse, it smelled. Like death and bedpans. Trouble winced in both pain and disgust and finally his gaze settled on the door to Holly's room.

Well, it would have, if the door had been closed. But it stood ajar, cruelly welcoming Trouble to the pits of hell. He frowned, sure that if this was indeed serious, the door would have been closed. Or, maybe someone got here before him. The low murmur of voices came from the room, confirming his thought. '_Who could be here already?'_ Trouble wondered, not past the hope that it might have been Holly talking, already awake, and that the past hour had been a terrible nightmare.

Keight seemed to pause just before they reached the door, his ears quivering as he tried to pick up the voices out of the room. Trouble looked up at his doctor, to see a small frown weigh down on the gnome's ginger brow. The LEP Commander felt a pang of worry echo in his beaten body as Keight pushed him slowly, hesitantly through the door of her room.

Though Trouble knew he would have a hard time accepting what he saw, it still didn't stop stabs of hurt and sadness from wounding his heart. He didn't even look at the other two standing by her bedside, his brown eyes filling again with tears as they took in the broken form on the bed sheets. At first, the elf is foreign to him. He couldn't recognize the bandaged forehead, the white cloth still unable to keep the smallest bit of rosy blood from seeping down a purple and black nose, bruised beyond recognition. The eyes, swollen shut in the same colors, were unfamiliar to him, dark, dried blood caked around the sockets. In fact, nothing about the face reminded him of the one he would gaze at whenever he could, sometimes for minutes at a time. This face revolted him. This wasn't Holly Short. Holly Short was too strong, too beautiful, to be this…thing.

But as Trouble fought the grief that battled his soul, he found one thing. One thing that proved that she was Holly Short. Above the countless bandages and casts that confined her perfect body, above the dried blood and horrible bruises, above the red spots on white, her hair, pushed up by the cloth on her forehead, stood in brilliant red spikes. The mirror of her spirit, the fiery strands burning in the light of the room. Trouble gasped, overwhelming, unfathomable emotion sweeping over him as his tears dripped to the floor like liquid diamonds.

An ice-cold voice slipped into his misery, making his heart freeze inside his chest. "Commander Kelp, I presume?"

It took Trouble an eternity to pull his eyes away from his mangled love and to the emotionless face of his addresser. Two eyes met his own. Both as icy and emotionless as the voice that went with them. But there, in the depths of the sharp blue, was the same thing that Trouble was feeling. Hurt. Dark, midnight hair hung lightly in front of those eyes, longer than Trouble remembered from the LEP reports. But the eyes were unmistakable. Trouble wiped his tears, trying not to look back at the bed where he knew what he would see would make the tears flow again.

Trouble looked into the human's eyes, ignoring the slight movement that the boy's bodyguard made, protectively in range of any gun Trouble might, but couldn't have. He waited a few moments until he was sure that his voice would match the same lack of emotion that the human's had. Finally, he spoke, his voice rough from his tears.

"Fowl."

X~*~X*~*X*~*X*~*X*~*X*~*X*~*X*~*X*~*X*~*X*~*X*~*X*~*X*~*X*~*X*~*X*~*X*~*X*~*X*~*X*~X

_A sky. The beautiful colors mixing and swirling in my vision. I'm on the surface._

_A beautiful place to be. I can just feel the weight of wings on my back. The greatest feeling, to fly. The only great feeling, unspoiled by the humans._

_I seem to be alone. Alone, drinking in the Irish sunset, loving the way the green hills seem to welcome the night, the birds already silent, the wind already calm._

_I jump, allowing the wings to take my weight and send me rocketing toward the stars._

_I'm lost in bliss, climbing higher and higher, until the clouds are at my feet._

_I'm alone. But I hear something._

_A voice. The voice is so familiar. Soothing. At first I am unsure. Should I let him into my dreams?_

_Oh, yes. _

_I dip my wings into a dive, spiraling for the beautiful earth. And as I do, there is another beside me, mirroring my moves as I descend. I turn, trying to see. _

_I know the figure, but is he who I wanted? _

_I catch his eyes. Both are familiar, yet so very different._

_One, smiling and beautiful, swims with chocolate swirls, telling tales of love and peace._

_The other, just as beautiful, glows with a piercing blue, almost like ice. But too warm to compare._

_The two beautiful eyes of the creature follow me as I travel further down and onto the grass below. I land, feeling weightless, and the wings are gone from my back. The figure is already standing beside me. There are no words for his appearance. Maybe because that isn't what matters._

_Because all I can see are the eyes. Sharp blue and radiant brown. So beautiful. _

_I walk toward the figure, floating lightly across the grass. Into his arms._

_Who is he? I don't care. His embrace fills me with such peace that the bliss of flying serves no competition._

_I can still hear his voice. It blends in and out with different tones._

_I try to talk back to him, but my own voice seems lost in the Irish night. I don't know how long we've been standing like this, but I never want to let go._

_Then, he stops speaking. I look up, yearning to find those beautiful eyes again, but my gaze only meets the twinkling stars in the night sky. _

_The beautiful creature is gone, and I am left embracing the air._

* * *

**It shouldn't take me as long to update next time. Even less as long if I get reviews. (pathetic, I know.) And even LESS if someone is smart enough to tell me what the relevance of Holly's room number is. If someone gets the answer right, I will give them... eh... a cyber hug. R&R! (Damn, I've reached the peak of patheticness...)**


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